


Not how I expected my night to go

by DanielDMcDarwin



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Coming Out, Fluff, M/M, i think this is pretty good, really just soft, this is a birthday gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26507794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanielDMcDarwin/pseuds/DanielDMcDarwin
Summary: “Okay I promise. I will not find you disgusting or hate you after you disclose this information,”“Thank you,” John said. And then he was quiet. For a few seconds there Paul thought he wasn’t going to say anything. But in the silence of the tiny bedroom, John said,“... I think I might be queer,” And then more silence.
Relationships: John Lennon & Paul McCartney, John Lennon/Paul McCartney
Comments: 10
Kudos: 78





	Not how I expected my night to go

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starseeker95](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starseeker95/gifts), [Periwinkle_paulie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Periwinkle_paulie/gifts).



> Happy late birthday! Here's the fic I promised you. I hope you at least don't hate it.  
> and to Periwinkle_paulie just because I like you. Happy reading  
> \- Samantha

The tapping on the glass was irritating and inconsistent. He hadn’t been sleeping anyway, so really it shouldn’t have bothered him. Tiny taps and knocks to the windows had come more frequently and Paul had rolled over in his bed, pulling the covers over. It was when a rather large object hit the window that made a loud booming sound and caused it to shake, that he got out of bed and threw the window open. 

On the ground in front of his father’s roses, stood a scared and rather underdressed John Lennon. Standing in an old t-shirt and his jeans, one shoe on and it looked like the other was on the ground in front of him. 

“It’s fuckin two in the morning,” Paul whisper-yelled down to him.

“And hello to you too,” John replied.

“Hi. What’re you doin?” He was starting to get irritated. It was late and John wasn’t making anything clear. When did John ever do that, though?

“I needed to talk to you,” He said, with urgency present in his voice.

“And this couldn’t wait till morning?” Paul asked. Now he was thoroughly confused.

“I can just go home,” He began to turn away.

“No no- John,” he stammered out.

John turned back and looked up at Paul from the frozen dirt, “Yes, Paulie?” he asked sardonically.

Paul rolled his eyes and huffed before responding.  _ This man _ , “Climb the drainpipe,”

Paul crept into the bathroom to open the window for John. Looking out it seemed he was having trouble. The cold pipe touching his bare skin made him uncomfortable and reluctant to climb. 

“Give me your hand,” Paul said.  _ This man is helpless _ .

John reached his hand out and let himself be halfway dragged into the McCartney’s bathroom.

“Fancy seeing you here,” John said, looking up from his awkward position on the floor. Paul couldn’t help but laugh. He may be infuriating, but he did make him smile.

“Get up. Don’t wanna camp out in the bathroom all night,” He playfully nudged his friend with his foot.

They crept slowly back into Paul’s bedroom, making as little noise as possible. When they reached it Paul took his spot back on the edge of his bed. John, being in the room, was instantly anxious. He had spent the entire walk over rehearsing what he’d say and calming his nerves, but once he was in the room his nerves were back and it felt like his brain just shut down.

They sat in awkward suspense for some time. Paul looked expectantly at John as John tried to distance himself from Paul as much as possible. It wasn’t much, really, considering how small the room was. John had taken to biting his fingernails and Paul had had enough of the quiet.

“So what was so important that you woke me up at,” he checked the clock, “2:26 am?”

“Ya know what I think I’ll go,” John said quickly, getting cold feet about the whole thing. 

“No tell me. You’ve got me intrigued now,” Paul said.

John looked nervously around the room. Paul could see from there that there was a riot going on inside his brain. John was always more transparent about his emotions than Paul was.

“Okay, okay fine. But you’ve really got to promise me you won’t think I’m disgusting or hate me after I tell you,” John said with a serious look in his eye.

“There’s two things wrong with that sentence. One, you’re saying this as if I’m begging you to tell me, even though you walked all the way over here at 2 in the morning to tell me. And two, whatever you’ve done has to have been pretty horrible for me to hate you or find you disgusting at this point. You’ve done it all,”

“Please, Macca. Will you just promise me that?” John asked. The pleading tone he had made Paul actually realize it was serious.

“Okay I promise. I will not find you disgusting or hate you after you disclose this information,” he said, putting his hand up in a mocking gesture as if he was taking an oath.

“Thank you,” John said. And then he was quiet. For a few seconds there Paul thought he wasn’t going to say anything. But in the silence of the tiny bedroom, John said,

“... I think I might be queer,” And then more silence.

Paul was, in truth, a bit shocked. His best friend being a queer wasn’t something he gave much thought to as a possibitlity. But it's never been something disgusting to him. To each their own, he always thought. He knew what other fellas would say. Call him a poof, make derogatory remarks, probably knock his teeth out given the chance. He was determined to never be that kind of guy. John, however, took his reflective silence to be disgust.

“I’m sorry I said that. You don’t have to see me again if you don’t want. I’ll be going,”

“No no no. John- wait,” he moved to stand up. John looked at him, anticipating a blow to the face.

“I don’t think you’re disgustin’ and I don’t hate you. Nothin’ wrong with being this way. Not like you get to choose, is it?” he said, adding a small smile to the end of his statement. John gave a smile too, but schooled his expression quickly. Didn’t want to seem too eager.

“So you don’t mind a dirty queer being in your bedroom?” he asked in a snide voice, but he was hopeful about Paul’s answer.

“Well maybe not a  _ dirty _ one. I’m hoping you’ve taken a shower. Nothing wrong with clean queers,” he joked.

John chuckled at his clean queers joke, but looked disappointed. He didn’t want the evening to end. He wanted to have a nice moment with Paul before he took back all the words he’d said and told him in the morning that he didn’t want to be his friend anymore.

“I guess I should be headin’ home, then?” he said, ending the nice atmosphere they’d created. Paul looked up at him with determination. There’s no way he was letting him leave right now with all this stuff going around in his head. Not to mention the fact that it’s freezing outside.

“I forbid it. It’s late, and cold, and you are terribly underdressed. Ya feel like a block of ice. You can stay here tonight,” he said. He deflated a bit and stopped fighting. John knew he’d probably end up hurt, but he was too tired to care.

“I can kip on the floor if ya want,” he said.

“No you’re freezing. Get under the blanket,” Paul said, climbing into bed himself. John climbed into the bed and pulled the covers over his lower half. They spent five awkwardly silent minutes as they tossed and turned on the bed trying to find a comfortable position. When they were comfortable, they just laid there. The bombshell John had dropped had finally begun to feel consequences. They were stiff and short with each other. Nothing about just laying down together was comfortable anymore. John really began to think this was all a big mistake. John wanted to say something to break the tension in the room, but Paul spoke first.

“So you wanna snog blokes. How’s that feel?” he asked, not turning his head. John thought about this for a second before responding.

“Same as wanting to snog birds. Just kissing ya know?”

“Hmm,” he hummed in response. John thought that was the end but Paul had more questions.

“So is it just guys for you then? No more birds for Johnny?”

“Both, I think. I mean girls are beautiful, and smart, and I’d still like to shag them. But like guys are cool, and pretty, and some of them are really smart, and some of them are really strong. And I know you’re not queer but kissing a guy just sounds like a whole lotta fun,” John had begun to ramble. The kind of rambling that isn’t really rambling so much as it is using way too many words to get your point across because it needs to come off exactly the way you want it. And Paul did think he saw his point. He did know that women were very sweet and beautiful and clever. And he could also see how kissing a bloke could be fun. Even if he wasn’t queer he could see trying it, even if it was just once. He liked to think he was straight, but willing to try things. 

He could definitely see the appeal in strong men. Not scary strong men, but slightly muscular. He’d often caught himself looking at John’s arms that way, not thinking anything of it. He knew John was strong, though. Made him feel safer with him as he’d get picked on for his girlish looks. Not that John’s threats to these men ever made a difference, as they just turned their focus to the both of them calling them two little queers who like to suck each other off.

“How did you figure out you might be queer?” Paul asked him.

“Your da,” John said without missing a beat.

“... Please tell me you’re joking,” Paul said, fully turning his head towards his friend.

“No Paul we’re having an affair. I’ll be your new mummy soon,”

“John, please,”

“Fine,” he huffed, “Probably Elvis.” he said reluctantly.

“Ah yes. The King himself,” Paul said in affirmation, “I could see that.” 

John smiled at his friend. He was so glad he wasn’t being an arse about him being queer. He was going to roll over before he recognized that Paul was still talking.”

“... I mean for me- If i was queer -I would say Marlon Brando or James Dean. They’re gorgeous, don’t ya think? Oh but singers I’d have to go with either Elvis or Bobby Darin. His singing voice is wonderful. God if I could hear him sing Talk to Me Something, I could die a happy man,” Paul rambled. John had turned over onto his side fully to face Paul. He hadn’t noticed the staring at first, which caused a smirk to appear on John’s face. _It would seem I’m not alone_. Paul went to look at John for affirmation when he caught him staring.

“What?” he said when he saw John’s reaction.

“Nothin,” he said and turned over, a smirk still plastered on his face.

“Tell me, John.”

“I just dont think we’re all that different.”

“That either means we’re both queer, or you’re normal.”

“I don’t think wanting bobby darin to croon to you in his deep singing voice classifies as ‘normal,’ Paul.” John said, chuckling a little. Paul gave him a stern look and when John noticed, his laughter died down.

“Look I don’t mean anythin’ by it. I’m just pointing out observations. Do you think my observations are incorrect? You can say so and I won’t say anything,” John said, trying to make amends.

Paul said something, but John didn’t catch it all the way. Sometimes it seemed his hearing was just as good as his eyesight.

“Sorry, what?” John asked him

“I said,” Paul exaggerated, “maybe you’re not exactly incorrect,” he whispered the last part, but John could hear him just fine now.

“Huh,” was all John said. He really didn’t think he would admit it. Even when he thought he might’ve been queer he made a point to say that he wasn’t or to go hit on a bird. Maybe it helped that John said it first. Couldn’t have seen him saying it otherwise.

“What?” Paul asked him. He was irritable and defensive. 

“Just didn’t think you’d say it. I’m not judging you. Would make me a hypocrite,” John said 

“It was easier to say it because you said it first. Now that I knew you were queer I knew you wouldn’t bash my skull in,” Paul said, chuckling nervously on the last word. “Feel like I can trust you.”

They sat in comfortable silence. They had their little niche in the world and it was here, with each other. Completely at ease. Nothing really had changed for them. Had it? They both seemed comfortable to get a good night's rest, with what little of the night they had left as it was nearing 3 am. Paul was closing his eyes when John spoke up again.

“So are you like me, then? Or is it just blokes for you?”

“I think i’m like you. Because girls are great. Have you seen tits? Fantastic, those are.” John was chuckling at this point, “But still, guys seem pretty great.” And then there was a pause. 

A pause filled with anticipation. A pause where you could tell there was words unsaid, but you couldn’t quite hear them. John wanted to be the one to say them. He didn’t want to be a coward anymore.

“I think you’re pretty great,” he said. He tried to push the rest of the meaning through his eyes and into Paul’s brain. He may have said the words, but he still doesn’t like to be out right rejected. It seemed to have worked because when Paul’s eyes locked with his, he seemed lighter. A flicker of relief and happiness crossed though his eyes.

“I think you’re pretty great too,” he finally said.

And those were the magic words. He only noticed Paul was leaning into him when he felt his breath on his face. Sure he saw it but he didn’t _realize_. And as soon as he did, he was done for. He looked up into the hazel eyes he’d gotten lost in so many times, and inside them there was acknowledgment. That they both wanted this, and that it was okay. 

So he leaned in to close the gap and their lips met in the middle. It was soft. Paul’s plump bottom lip latched around his and moved together with him in harmony. Just like on stage; when they were screaming into a microphone. It didn’t just feel good, it felt _right_. Like right here with Paul was where he was always meant to be.

The kiss became more passionate and energetic as time went on. Taking deep breaths whenever they could so they didn’t have to stop. They never wanted to stop. This resulted in breathing in the other’s scent and neither of them were complaining. John’s hand had found its way around the nape of Paul’s neck, pulling him in deeper. Paul’s hands had gotten a good grip on the other boy’s arms. They had maneuvered themselves so Paul was practically laying on top of John. John reached his hand down to hoist Paul’s leg over his waist, before letting both his hands rest at Paul’s hips. 

Small groans escaped their mouths, along with the occasional moan. Paul bit down softly onto John’s lip and caused the man to let out a growl and thrust his hips upward against the other boy’s groin. This caused Paul to tense up and pull away from the kiss. John looked up at him with confusion. He thought that they we’re having a pretty good time.

“What is it?” he asked. He was a little annoyed, but mostly concerned. He didn’t want to ruin things before they had really begun.

“It’s nothin’ to do with you. It’s just that it’s late and I don’t want to be loud. What if my da wakes up and sees us,” he said, hoping John would understand.

“Yeah you’re right,” he said reluctantly. He would like to do more than just kissing, but he saw his point and would rather he not die tonight. Who knows what his dad would do to him if he saw him screwing his son. Probably murder them both right then and there.

“I’m sorry,” Paul said after a disappointed silence.

“No don’t be sorry. I would rather my balls not be framed above your mantle,” John said. This caused the both of them to fall into a fit of giggles with them trying to shush each other, resulting in more giggles, but quieter this time.

“Did you get an image?” John asked between laughter.

“Yeah I did,” Paul said, trying to calm himself down.

-

They were lying down together now. John’s arm was around the younger boy’s shoulder. Paul had fallen asleep after their second round of intense snogging. John was just barely getting drowsy. It was now 3 am and John had found it easy to pass the time watching Paul’s chest rise and fall and his lashes flutter against his cheeks ever so often. A smile crept onto his face as sleep pulled him in. If falling asleep next to him was great, he couldn’t wait to wake up with him.

  
  



End file.
